This wounded cat comes around every so often.
You couldn't tell by looking at her, but she's been through more than is necessary-
The price you have to pay for living in the streets.
And she wants only enough life to keep on living.
She pulls out all the tricks: brushing against my legs, looking at me with her glossy eyes, purring gently.
So I feed her-
It takes nothing away from me.
And she leaves;
I get the feeling she thinks she's taking me for a ride,
But honestly the show she puts on pays for itself;
I only need enough life to keep on living.